


Ginger ale

by Lelline



Series: Hot drinks and cold killers [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Buckets, Comfort No Hurt, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everything is beautiful but Jack's stomach hurts, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, GTA AU, M/M, Polyamory, Protective Geoff, Protective Michael, Protective Ryan, Sickfic, Soulmate AU, Taking Care of Jack, stomach flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelline/pseuds/Lelline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that the Fake AH Crew are toothrottingly attentive when their soulmate/driver gets sick. Jack gets the full experience when he catches a stomach bug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ginger ale

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of a long series, but if you just want quick fluff, it should stand alone fine.
> 
> You can blame this oneshot on Isaac_Kran for mentioning "one of my weaknesses is when Jack is on the receiving end of being taken care of (like, I become a mess when I start reading 'taking care of Jack' stories)".

Jack wasn’t young.  
He had not spent his youth diving out of the way of bullets or climbing along rooftops. He was in his thirties the first time he’d ran for his life, and even for a man past his twenties, he was not in the best shape. He was the type that would rather a steering wheel than a pedal bike, though he was coming to terms with the fact even as a driver, his new life as the husband of five of the most dangerous men in Achievement City meant he would need to push himself sometimes. Sometimes they had to switch cars mid-heist to avoid being found, sometimes Jack had to get into a plane and take off before the military realized they were inside their base.  
His new life was exciting and amazing, his soulmates always careful to keep him as safe as possible even as he followed them into the thick of their crimes. They tried to keep him out of firefights, out of the blast area, but he had already ignored their overprotective nature a few times to ensure that he got them out of particularly rough situations.  
He’d been the first there when Geoff had been shot, he’d been the first there when Gavin had been too close to an explosion, he had been there to carry Ray to the car when the youngest had fallen off a scaffold and broken his leg, and he had gone to fetch Michael and Ryan when they had gotten pinned down by a rogue gang in the mountains.  
With all of the different stresses in his life, and with the extra weight on his frame, it was easy to ignore how weak and strange he had felt when he had woken up. He turned to coffee, trying his hardest to buck up in time to drive Geoff and Ray out to negotiate gun prices with their suppliers.  
He was meant to stay in the car, acting as just a driver, but it was hard to stay still as his stomach clenched and gurgled.  
His soulmates were just outside the car. He didn’t dare open the doors or call out to them though. Geoff was immaculately dressed and standing strong, Ray standing cockily to the side with one of his pink hunting rifles. The puerto rican was dressed darker and crisper than usual, there to check the quality of the product as only he could. These were their usual suppliers and members of RT, so they weren’t a threat, but Jack knew he couldn’t show weakness right now,  
It was just the stress of the job getting to him, he reasoned to himself as he turned the ac on and tried to cool down. He blinked, and suddenly there was a cool hand on his forehead, “Jack?” Geoff murmured at him softly, “You okay?”  
“Of course.” He smiled, “Sorry, I must have zoned out.” He glanced back to see Ray smiling at him softly, then pulled out of the parking lot to head home.  
They were still just outside city limits when he pulled over.  
“Jack?” Ray frowned, “Why are we stopping?”  
In lieu of answering, Jack opened the door, stumbled out to the edge of the ditch. A moment later every bit of food he had ever eaten was coming up out of his mouth.

“Just a stomach bug.” Jack groaned as he was set out on the guest bed, head spinning. He felt like crap, and was only glad there was a bucket beside him and a cool cloth wiping his face. Geoff was attentively sitting beside him, keeping the cloth cool and fresh with a bowl of water.  
“You shoulda told us you were feeling crappy.” Michael said, his gruff tone not matching the look of concern on his face.  
“We’ve called the doctor.” Ryan stepped in. He came straight over to brush his fingers through Jack’s hair. “Have you ate anything weird lately?”  
“I haven’t eaten anything no one else ate.” Jack groaned at even the memory of food, closing his eyes to try and ward off the nausea. “Today i just had coffee.”  
“That couldn’t have helped.” Geoff said with a laugh. “You hate coffee.”  
“Just rest.” Michael ordered, “Ignore these assholes and try to get some rest.”  
Jack was helpless to comply.

There was two days where Jack lost track of what was real and what was just fever dreams, though he had a clear memory of sitting on the bathroom tile bent over the toilet, Geoff rubbing his back. There were a few other memories he had of sitting on the toilet, or of laying on the bed, head on Gavin’s lap as he tried to just sleep through the cramps.

On day three, he was finally well enough to survive a shower, though Ryan hovered just outside the water, ready to catch him if he lost his balance. Ray had set up a nice nest set up for him on the couch.  
Jack curled into it thankfully, still a little woozy but happy to be awake and aware of anything not related to his stomach and bowels. There was only a few moments before Jack was joined by Ray, the smaller man settling down by Jack’s feet. “Do you need anything?” He murmured, looking concerned.  
Jack shook his head, a little charmed by how attentive everyone was.  
Ray turned on Jack’s favourite channel then settled in, no DS in sight. Ray grabbed Jack’s feet instead, rubbing them absentmindedly as they watched a reality TV show he knew Ray had to be bored of.  
Jack’s stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with his flu, and he pulled a foot free to poke Ray. “You don’t need to babysit me. You have to be bored.”  
“Nah. I’m good.” He said, shooting him a smile that made Jack have to smile back like the lovestruck idiot he knew he was.  
And to Ray’s credit, he didn’t complain even as the tv droned on about the alaskan wilderness or even as Jack had to dive for a bucket.  
Ryan passed Jack some gingerale after a little while, the soda flat and yet offensive.  
“I can’t drink anything.” The bearded man groaned.  
Ryan just pinched his arm, nodding at the skin when it remained pale and raised. “You’re dehydrated, drink some liquid and let us take care of you.”  
Jack hadn’t had someone take care of him like that in years. And it all made his stomach ache and vomiting worth it.

He figured out later that the others were going out to eat in shifts, keeping the stink of food away from Jack. Crackers and gingerale became permanent features to the living room, as well as frequently changing buckets and a mountain of sweaty blankets.  
Jack frowned a little on the fourth day, feeling a bit better but at the same time feeling drained. “You guys don’t need to do all this for me.” He murmured as he settled on the couch, Michael sitting beside him. “I’m okay now, I’m not going to faint or anything. You don’t have to set up shifts.”  
“You’re sick.” Michael said. “Theres five of us, and one of you. We’re not doing shifts, we’re just all worried.” He carded his hands through Jack’s hair. “Just accept that and let us fuss over you a little longer.”  
Michael-”  
“Nope.” The redhead shook his head and wrapped an arm around Jack and kissed his forehead. “Shut up. You can’t talk back until you get better. If you don’t like it, don’t get sick ever again.”  
“That mindset works great for Gav.” Jack laughed, but sunk into Michael’s arms and enjoyed the peace and quiet as they turned on a show about destroying and rebuilding bridges.

Gavin had been around the least during Jack’s illness, but Jack couldn’t blame him. The brit had nearly vomited every time Jack had gotten sick, and he had the least upper arm strength so he had been terrible at trying to help Jack to the bathroom. Now that Jack was nearly better however, Gavin was there, passing him a plate of burnt toast and a tea that smelt of lemon and mind. “Here. This is what Mum always made me.”  
Jack nodded, taking the toast and nibbling on it tentatively, before taking a deep sip of the tea. After then minutes his stomach wasn’t any worse so he took a few more cautious bites. Gavin had switched the channel to some sort of slow motion technical show, but Jack hardly minded the change as he curled into his side and just enjoyed Gavin’s warmth. His hands wandered up under Gavin’s shirt, eager for warm skin.  
“Nope.” Gavin said, reaching down to remove Jack’s hands. “Dr Free doesn’t sleep with gross vomity patients.”  
Jack was confused at first, before remembering that time years ago when he’d walked in on Gavin ‘treating’ a sick Ryan on that very couch.  
“No.” Jack laughed, pulling Gavin closer. “I’m not sure I’m up for that anyways. I just like touching you.”  
Gavin sputtered for a moment, then burst into laughter, kissing Jack all over his face except for his lips. “Well try not to touch me too much. I don’t wanna have to find one of the others to help me out if you get me excited.”  
“Why not do it yourself?”  
And that prompted another one of Gavin’s strange conversations that made Jack almost wish he still had a fever so he could have a hope of understanding him.

Ryan was a tough love kinda nurse, not accepting it when on the fifth day Jack wanted things to be normal again.  
“Nope.” He said, watching Jack’s expressions as he slowly made his way through toast and bananas. “One more day.”  
Jack shook his head “I’m fine. There has to be an upcoming job to prepare for or a bank to rob.”  
Ryan’s response was to drag Jack to the couch to cuddle. the killer was surprisingly gentle as he positioned Jack just right so that Ryan had him trapped between his thighs. Jack let out a protesting noise, but then Michael was there as well, climbing over them both to curl into Jack’s lap, passing out controllers. “Let’s play a game.”  
And Jack couldn’t complain about any of it when he was pinned between two of his soulmates, a controller in his hands and a mission to kill aliens.

That night, Jack finally went back to their shared room. He had been one of the most adamant about him not sleeping in there while sick, knowing it would be hard for the others to sleep when he was at his sickest and not wanting to run the risk of ruining their custom sheets or mattress. Jack always ended up near the center, his squishy frame good for cuddling into. He had never been alone in the guest room, because despite what Michael had said they had definitely done some sort of shift rotation, but it was nice to return to their big, familiar bed and get back to the others.  
Everyone else was just as excited to have him back in their bed and soon he had been brought to the middle and in the dark it was hard to tell exactly who was who as they all cuddled close.

The next day, Jack was finally allowed back to work, though Ryan pinched him constantly to check his hydration levels. He suspected there was a nicer way to check, but didn’t complain, still a little embarrassed but happy whenever they fussed a little over him in private, though he would never admit it.  
The others checked on him constantly, their concern only beginning to die off a week after he returned to work. Then they were just back to their old level of protective, trying to keep Jack away from the thick of their battles, even as he tried to keep them all alive. They were all now sick of construction shows though and the guestroom still smelt like bleach and cleaners for weeks afterwards.


End file.
